33. Paige
33
Paige
I wake up to someone pounding on my window.
Okay, knocking , but it woke me from a dead sleep, so it sounded more aggressive. The clock on the counter is a dirty liar because it says six p.m. There’s no way I napped for three hours.
But as I sit up and push the curtain aside, I realize the sun is waning in the sky, getting ready to drop below the mountainscape.
Whoever is outside knocks again.
Glad to know my stress nap worked, except now I’m stressed again at the realization I’m still in a shit ton of trouble. I moan but drag myself out of Cleocatra’s warm embrace.
“Coming!” I yell, looking for a weapon I can use in case the person outside has ill intentions.
A pair of tongs is the closest I can come up with on short notice, so I arm myself with them and walk to the door. The van is hot now since the AC is no longer running, and the windows are foggy enough I can only make out a shape, not a face.
I take a deep breath and peer at Cleo, nodding. She’s got my back in case anything goes wrong.
Flinging open the door, I don’t bother with hello or how can I help you . I go straight for, “I’m armed!”
The man staring back at me is the last person I expected to see, but my heart swells seeing him.
“You came.”
His large-brimmed hat holds the familiar Yellowstone National Park crest, and he’s wearing dark green pants with a matching shirt. The large backpack sticking up well above his head has me feeling instantly relieved he’s here to save me.
“Evening, ma’am,” he says, clearing his throat and hiking his pack higher. “I was hoping you had some water. I lost my water bottle some ways back, and I still have quite a bit of road left to travel.”
My face falls. “You aren’t a ranger?”
He shakes his head with a creased brow. “I’m Jeff from Utah. Just here to hike.”
Well, thanks a lot Jeff from Utah.
I nod slowly, realizing a ranger likely wouldn’t stop unless my car had been here for days. Plenty of people like this man pull off to the side of the road to venture out into the woods. The booklet said there were tons of marked trails throughout the park.
“Oh.” I lower the tongs, hiding them behind my back in case there’s a chance he didn’t see them already. “Hang on a minute.”
He nods and steps back as I shut the door. I only have two water bottles, but I need to keep one for myself. The one I grab is a plastic one I got at Upstairs Closet Thrift a few months ago with a cracked lid. The bottle doesn’t leak, so it should be fine for him. I fill it up from the sink after flipping the switch on my water tank.
I’m capping the bottle when I hear a scuffle outside.
“Who are you? What the fuck are you doing here?” another voice says.
My eyes widen, and I rush to the door, flinging it open without a second thought. Just as I do, I hear the guy who asked for water start to say: “I’m just getting water—”
A figure barrels forward in a dark sweatshirt, forcing Jeff from Utah to walk backward. “This isn’t a store. Go find somewhere else to get water!”
“Rhodes?”
Oh shit .
He whips around, eyes a little wild, hair even more so. “Paige.”
I look to Jeff from Utah, who is no threat to society like Rhodes wants to believe.
“He was trying to take advantage of you,” Rhodes says, carelessly pointing at him while walking closer to me. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I was not!” Jeff from Utah retorts.
“I’m fine.” I nod and extend the water bottle to the guy. “Sorry about that.”
He peers between Rhodes and the bottle, deciding he’s okay to grab it, so he does. It’s fast, and he turns around immediately to stalk off, looking back over his shoulder. “Thank you again.”
Rhodes waves. “Sorry.”
Our gazes lock once more. It’s so shocking to see him standing in front of me, acting like a big macho hero coming to save his princess from the fire-breathing dragons guarding the tower. Okay, it’s actually pretty great and very different. Yellowstone doesn’t have dragons. But there are some similar aspects, like the fact he’s here .
“What are you—”
I’m cut off when he steps forward, pulling me out of the open door at my waist and pinning me to the side of the van. This is nothing like the near punch he almost threw at a stranger. This is a man who is hungry .
He cradles my face in his hands. “You have three seconds to tell me you either need to go to the hospital or you don’t want me to kiss you.”
“I don’t need a hospital.” But maybe I do based on how quickly my heart is galloping outside my body.
It’s enough for him since he tilts my face up and kisses me.
This isn’t a made-for-TV kind of kiss, either. His tongue is in my mouth, hands diving into my sleep-mussed hair. It’s urgent and insistent as he pushes closer until there isn’t a breath of space between us and I’m flat against the van. His hips hold me in place even though I’m not a flight risk. In fact, there’s no other place I’d rather be.
My brain finally catches up, and I kiss him back, matching his intensity and the relief coursing through me that he’s here . The press of his mouth on mine softens, and his kisses become almost languid like we’re swimming in a pool of oil.
“Woo!” someone else calls. “Guess you found what you were looking for.”
Rhodes pulls away even though I’m gripping handfuls of his sweatshirt, trying to keep him close. His lips are red, and he’s breathing heavily.
I’ve already forgotten about the other voices, but he hasn’t. He turns to look at them, giving a small wave. “Thanks for the ride!”
Quickly cataloging the small vehicle with multiple humans inside and a dog, I can’t decipher where he ever fit. “Did you drive all the way here with them?” My brain finally registers that he got here somehow and who else is in the car. “Constance?”
Constance salutes me while the dog sits directly on her lap, head out the window.
“No, we rode with them through the park,” Rhodes says. “And Constance surprised me at the airport. We were just on our way to the ranger station when I saw your van.”
“Did you tell her yet?” Constance yells at Rhodes.
I crane my neck to look at him. “Tell me what?”
“Later,” he whispers to me, then hollers, “Get lost, Constance!”
“I plan to,” she calls back. “Onward, weird family!” she shouts.
“Need anything else before we take off?” the woman with bleach-blonde hair asks. “Your wife?”
Wife ?
Rhodes replies with a quick, “We’re good,” while I scream, “Yes!”
He looks at me, and I shrug sheepishly. “I’m out of gas.”
“How—” He stops himself. “Nevermind. Do you have the empty gas can I packed you?”
“You packed me a gas can?” I feel him pull away, stepping back, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to talk about gas cans or safety. I want to keep kissing.
My brain is still so immersed in the conversation our mouths were just having.
But we have problems to fix.
Rhodes drops his hands from my waist but tugs me by the hand to the back of the van where he opens both doors to rummage through a few things. He hoists the gas can up when he finds it.
Turning to the blonde woman still hanging out her car, he asks: “Can we get a ride to fill this?”
“Hop in you two lovebirds!” She beams and waves us over. “This must be your mistress.”
I have no idea what's happening.
Rhodes scratches the back of his neck while I grab the door handle. “Uh, yeah. Something like that.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and he widens his, begging me to just go with it.
Constance hugs the dog on her lap, who is easily heavier than her, and address me. “You’re alive!”
“I’m alive,” I say, less enthusiastically. “What are you doing here?”
The two children scoot over to make room for us.
“Grand gesturing you.”
I wrinkle my brow as Rhodes tugs me closer before I can slide in. “FYI, they have a dog, and it will probably drool on you.”
I nod before realizing Cleo is still in the van. My head is in another realm. “Hold on.” I squeeze his hand, then let it drop. “I’ll be right back.”
I jog to the van's side door and swing it open, snatching the harness, leash, and Cleo. Back outside, I clutch her closer to my chest as she tries to leap free.
“Any chance we have room for one more?”
The woman nods. “Clementine is great with cats.”